


perhaps

by actuallyasweetpotato



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, BokuAka Week 2020, M/M, Post-Break Up, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyasweetpotato/pseuds/actuallyasweetpotato
Summary: “I’m home,” Akaashi said, with an almost wry smile on his lips.“Wel-” Bokuto stopped himself. He shouldn’t say things that weren’t true.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of Bokuaka Week! Mutual pining/obliviousness | **roommates** /moving in | college au
> 
> This was inspired by yoasobi’s song [たぶん (Probably)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iuLXODzL04). You guys should def check it out, its such a banger :D
> 
> Thank you [pancakewars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakewars/pseuds/pancakewars) for beta reading! Ur comments as wonderful and helpful as always 
> 
> I have no words. ahaha sorry guys

From where Bokuto was lying on the bed, his (their) small apartment looked foreign to him. 

Where was the stained coffee mug, the messy journal with colorful sticky notes spilling out from between the pages? Where was the arm slung over his chest, the heavy warmth close by? There was only the empty tissue box, half empty bottles of water littering almost every surface, the glaring emptiness of  _ his  _ side of the bed. Bokuto couldn’t see the bathroom, but he knew that there was only one toothbrush in the cup on the sink.

Really, it was like Akaashi never lived here at all.

But Bokuto knew he had. How else could he have gotten so familiar with the ache of something missing in this apartment, by his side?

He rolled over, unwilling to face the room.

Instead, he faced the glass sliding door, the thin curtains that Akaashi had laughed about, saying that they barely blocked any light. Bokuto had meant to get new ones, but… it just didn’t happen.

In a few minutes, Akaashi would be visiting to return his key. Bokuto should get up, meet Akaashi at the door, accept the key, and bid him a frosty farewell. But he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. It would only drive home that this was actually goodbye.

So he just watched the curtains hang lifelessly, the cold morning’s ambiance filtering in through the fabric. White clouds blanketed the sky, a vague brightness with no specific source, just light emanating from above.

Bokuto closed his eyes against the glare. Birds were chirping, and Bokuto could pick out the sound of gravel crunching under tires, the sound of someone leaving home as they pulled out of the apartment complex’s driveway. Around this time of day, the coffee machine would be percolating, the trickling noise and smell of brewing coffee permeating his senses. Bokuto missed it. 

Absent-mindedly, he wondered if the gravel he heard was from Akaashi’s car pulling into the driveway. If it really was Akaashi, then he’d be here any second now.

But Bokuto still didn’t want to get up- like he had forgotten how to. Was he falling into old habits?

Perhaps.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, a quiet peal echoing through the room.

Bokuto listened to it fade. Maybe it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t home. 

A beat. 

Then, softly, a  _ click _ at the door, like the nights when Akaashi was held up at the office, and would sneak to bed, trying not to wake Bokuto. Still, Bokuto would wake up to the bed dipping, a weight snuggling up to his side. Bokuto would grumble and moan, saying that Akaashi was sapping all his warmth and Akaashi would just cling closer, even sticking his cold hands on Bokuto’s neck and chuckling as Bokuto complained louder. But even so, it was miles better than waking up alone.

Bokuto rolled over to face the rest of the room, and Akaashi was there, straightening up after slipping off his shoes. 

Akaashi’s frame looked so painfully familiar in the environment of his apartment, like a missing puzzle piece falling into place.

“I’m home,” Akaashi said, with an almost wry smile on his lips.

“Wel-” Bokuto stopped himself. He shouldn’t say things that weren’t true.

The smile turned pained, then dropped. “Why didn’t you answer the door?” 

“Sorry.” Bokuto turned his face into the mattress. “I just…” 

“It’s fine.” Bokuto knew that it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bokuto could see in Akaashi’s hand the key to the apartment, and he immediately recognized the keychains attached to it. 

The first, a tiny volleyball- Bokuto had a matching one. Bokuto knew every groove and dimple of its worn surface, almost as well as the grooves of Akaashi’s hands and the dimples that appeared when Akaashi smiled so wide that his eyes disappeared and Bokuto’s heart felt like bursting.

The other, an owl plush keychain. It had been a lucky win from a gacha machine that they passed on their way home from school. Akaashi had refused the owl keychain at first, saying that it wasn’t his style, but Bokuto had caught him looking at the owl on his bag with wistful eyes. In the end, Akaashi had accepted it, hanging it on the keys to their shared apartment. Well, just Bokuto’s apartment now.

Watching Akaashi walk closer, Bokuto swallowed down words that threatened to spill past his lips.  _ Keep the keys, the keychain, keep the plushie- at the very least, please keep our memories.  _ But he knew that if that happened, he wouldn’t be able to move on. Neither of them would.

So, he just watched Akaashi’s outstretched hand hover above the bedside table, about to set down the keys. 

“Wait, Akaashi-” In a moment of weakness, Bokuto reached out and grabbed onto Akaashi’s hand. The bundle of key and keychain dropped onto the table with a loud  _ clunk _ , but Bokuto ignored it, instead looking up into Akaashi’s face. Closely, this time. Without hiding.

Akaashi’s eyes were swollen and puffy, and Bokuto was sure they mirrored his own. 

Bokuto swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Can we- Keiji, can we try again?” They’d already talked about this, like the adults they were. But was Bokuto willing to indulge memories?

Perhaps.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, in the hoarse kind of whisper that Bokuto knew preceded tears. “We already went over this. We can’t.”

Bokuto said nothing.

Slowly but surely, Akaashi’s other hand wrapped around his. Akaashi began to unfurl his fingers, one by one. Thumb. Pointer. Middle. Ring. Pinkie.

Bokuto’s hand fell. 

With a short nod, Akaashi turned, heading for the door. 

The breath caught in Bokuto’s throat. He couldn’t- could he just let Akaashi leave like that?

“Welcome home.” Bokuto called out, a desperate last attempt.

But Akaashi only smiled sadly, shaking his head. “This isn’t home. Not for me. Not anymore.” 

One foot out the door, halfway out of Bokuto’s life, Akaashi paused. He turned back, still wearing the same bittersweet look. And after a moment of hesitation, in a voice so quiet that Bokuto had to strain to hear it, “Thank you.”

Then, he slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him so,  _ so  _ softly that Bokuto wasn’t sure when he left at all.

Maybe Akaashi had left a lot earlier than Bokuto imagined.

Perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> and they were roommates 
> 
> ~~emphasis on were~~
> 
> [promo tweet](https://twitter.com/shesusismygod/status/1289303071885914112?s=20) | [other works](https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyasweetpotato/works) | [tumblr](https://actuallyasweetpotato.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/shesusismygod)
> 
> Cry with me in the comments!


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